Writing and raising children in the leafy London suburbs

Amber bought a Furby yesterday with her accumulated pocket money, so now there are two of them in the house.

Interesting fact: if you put two Furbies together they become like a Terminator, in that they can’t be bargained with, can’t be reasoned with, don’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And they absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead driven mad.

We all inhabit a house on the edge of London, and I make a living as a copywriter in the centre of town.

It's been a turbulent few years - tragedy struck early in 2011 when my younger brother died very suddenly and unexpectedly. We're still recovering from that.
My dad had a heart transplant in 2008. He's still alive and doing very well indeed.